Emily and I were discussing the Power of the Part (as in hair) as a potent superhero disguise tool. She knows lots about superheroes, being obsessed with them and all. How many people do you know who have created their own superhero, backstory and all? Okay, maybe a lot, but how many of them are married and don’t live with their parents?
Her creation is Johnny Bitchin’. I’ll keep it short but his superpower is an powerful sense of taste that makes him akin to a bloodhound. His achilles heel is that if he’ll die if he tastes is own urine (WTF? I know!) His costume is the usual tights/cape ensemble with (and this is important) a locking codpiece to keep his nemesis away from his vital bodily fluids. It is common for bad guys to tie him to a chair and make him force liquids so he has to, well, you know.
Emily is awesome, she ought to be the one writing a blog. Her husband is going to be so pissed (hahahahaha!) that I am encouraging her superhero fantasy by writing about it. He gets angry whenever she even brings it up, which is all the time.
Anyway, we were discussing the Power of the Part. She was a sport and posed for some pictures to illustrate our point.
If you part your hair on the left, you look like a dorky gamer. No one would know that beneath that meek exterior lies a crime-fighting dynamo.
Now flip that part over to the right side and you have yourself an ass-kicking superhero, or at least a Charlie’s Angel.
Okay, I’m feeling kind of random today but I get that way on weekends. Seriously, I can’t wait for TGIM when I can get back to taming the beast, AKA my house full of junk. Time to cut the crap.
Weekends mean low-yield. 5 albums and 5 laser discs.
Another picture of Barry Manilow and his beagle! He friggin’ loves this dog! I’ll bet you a dollar that dog’s name is Mandy and he can’t live without her.
It’s no secret Carly isn’t wearing a bra.
Who doesn’t like the Doobie Brothers?
Do you remember this movie? Don’t worry, you aren’t alone. It’s another one of that embarrassing genre of old coots making it with barely legal actresses. Jane March made a splash with The Lover, a soft-porn adaptation of Marguerite Duras’ book of the same name. She was super young at the time, dare I say 17? I remember she didn’t wear a bra either. It was an indelible image. Color of Night came out shortly thereafter and enjoyed the dubious honor of being laughed out of Cannes. You want it?
Great film but not worth much on the internet. FREE.
Aw, another great film on laserdisc. FREE.
This one might be worth something. Saving it for Doug.
Need I say more? Going to Doug.
Another broken sword, a snow globe that annoys me and duck shoes that are too big. DONATE.